FORBIDDEN TO LOVE
by dungbombacidpops
Summary: "OBLIVIATE!" Draco Malfoy lowered the wand as the spell hit the brown eyed witch. Her eyes vacant, when moments before they were filled with love. Something akin to bone crushing grief washed over him. He had to do it, to protect her. A forbidden love born out of pain & hope. He was night and she was his light, his salvation. A wish & a promise that changed everything. DRAMIONE
1. Chapter 1

**Prolouge-1**

 _ **THE TITLE OF THIS STORY HAS BEEN CHANGED FROM "OBLIVIATE: THE START TO AN END" TO "FORBIDDEN TO LOVE". SORRY GUYS FOR ANY CONFUSION. I AM ALSO ON TUMBLR UNDER THIS PENNAME, IF YOU WANT YOU CAN ASK ME QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS FIC THERE ALSO.**_

 **A disclaimer-** _ **If I had owned HP, I would be right now sipping Champagne in a private jet with Matt Damon. Seeing as I am nowhere near that… you get the rest. Don't you?**_

 _ **A/N-Finally, with the first chapter of OBLIVIATE at last. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have included the original one shot as a prologue.**_

 _ **And damn it all to hell, the ffnet had some problem and the whole story got deleted, god knows why. Thus, I am reposting the story. I am sorry. Those who followed and reviewed, well damn sorry again. Hope you read it.**_

 _ **I am so excited to know how you all are liking it, so do leave a review. It really makes my day.**_

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She ran the whole path towards the astronomy tower. Her wild curls created, a halo around her face as if they possessed a life of their own. She found out nothing, over the beating of her own footsteps against the odd steps. Her blood rushed over her ears. All she could discover was her own labored breathing.

In. Out. In. Out. And nothing.

It was not supposed to ache, not so much.

And the brave lioness was scared, frightened out of her head, unlike the Gryffindor she was.

She rounded up the corner of the astronomy tower her footsteps slowing down a bit, but her heart beats didn't.

She looked upwards and found him standing near the ledge, looking beyond the forbidden woods, toward the horizon where faint red streaks had broken away. With a promise for a brighter morning, but she didn't feel any sort of hope in her heart. His head was bowed and the last shine of the moonlight gleamed off his platinum blond hair, making him look like an angel.

But the world below them, saw him nothing more than as a devil, that he was.

"You shouldn't be here, " he stated in a lifeless voice. The voice that turned her insides to the flames of passion once now turned into ice.

"Please don't do this," She said barely above a whisper, afraid that the night will sweep it before it even reached his ears. But he heard her alright.

"You know I have no choice, " said he.

"Everyone has a choice. We will ask for help, please don't give up on us, and please don't give up on me."

"I HAVE NO CHOICE DAMN-IT!" His voice echoed through the empty astronomy tower.

She could sense his anguish in waves, dashing into her.

"Please look at me," She begged.

The blond haired boy turned back, to face her.

And there it was, the finality in his stance, the storm brewing in his eyes and she felt in her bones that it was the end… that this was it.

A heartbreaking wail broke free from her lips and she stumbled a couple of steps back.

"You can't do this to me, you can't. Are you going to throw away all that we had, no all that we still have? Tell me are you going to throw it all away. Well, I won't let you, I will fight you even if I have to."

He took a tentative step towards her. A set of cinnamon brown eyes bore into a pair of metallic gray ones. His beautiful face broke in a ghost of a smile as if it amused him somehow.

"Always my brave lioness."

But then, a look of pure torture marred his face.

"Do you know what you do to me? Every time we touched, every time we kissed, it felt as if I was soaring above and I felt… I felt as if I could conquer the world as if there will be no darkness tomorrow. I, a death eater felt something at that barren spot, that you called a heart. But I can't do this anymore. I won't do this anymore, not to you, " he said, taking a ragged breath.

"Well, it's not just your decision to make, it's my life too, and you are my life. Don't do this."

"Do you know, what they will do to you when they know about us? I am good at hiding my mind, but the Dark Lord, he is better at reading it and he isn't forgiving. And it would kill me if something happened to you."

"But what if we make it to the end… what if we defeat him?"

"But that's just it, love. They are what ifs."

"I have all my faith in you, you know that right? We will overcome this. We have come through so much don't back out now."

"Forever an optimist aren't you, Gryffindor to the core" he stated.

The pale boy's face then morphed into a soft touch of utter determination.

"But know this, my love, if we make out of this war, I am coming for you. I am going to make you fall in love with me again, because sweetheart, we are meant to be together. _Always."_

The pale boy raised his wand into her face.

Another sob escaped her lips. And there was no fear in those brown eyes, just a look of steely determination. If he could put his heart on the line, then the least she could do, was the same. She didn't fully understand his reasons. But if she couldn't stand beside him in the war, then she very well, could be the strength behind him.

She allowed all the courage and love she had for that boy, to fill each and every cell of her body.

"Well then make sure you woo me alright the next time," she said.

Silent tears rolled down her flawless cheeks.

"I have to do this Hermione. I have to protect you. _I LOVE YOU._ "

At that time, Hermione felt as if, the cruciatus curse would hurt less than this. She poured all her heart into the next line because she knew that it was something, that both of them had to do.

" _I LOVE YOU TOO, DRACO._ "

His face looked as if a hundred knives stabbed into him, as a lone tear escaped from his eyes, he uttered the spell.

" _OBLIVIATE!_ "

A look of vacant expression played into those eyes as the spell hit her square in the chest.

The brown haired girl fell into a heap on the floor.

And there on the rough stone floor of the Astronomy tower, at the faint beginning of dawn a story ended. Draco Malfoy scooped Hermione Granger into his arms, like a delicate flower that she was and kissed her soft lips probably for the last time.

"I love you more than my life, my lioness. Never forget that." He whispered hoarsely.

And as his heart broke into million little pieces, a brutal cry reverberated through the walls of the castle of Hogwarts.

 _ **Continued…**_

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 **A/N- leave a review. I absolutely love them.**

 **DUNGBOMB!**


	2. Chapter 2

**PROLOGUE** **-2**

 _ **A/N- nothing much to say. But all the criticisms are invited and I will make sure to correct any mistake on my part. Go on, read it. And don't forget to leave a review.**_

 _ **A big fat thank you, to**_ _ **Apsincandescence**_ _ **for correcting the mistakes in the last chapter and the review. A big hug to Apsincandescence,**_ _**SereniteRose, Lillystar With two L's for the wonderful reviews and to those who followed & favorite.**_

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It wasn't the first time he found himself in a strange place. And it would suffice to say that, this was an often repeated occurrence. He kept on walking as he always thought that, it's best if he left to fate to take its own course.

The sunlight was brilliant and shining like a newly minted galleon and the azure blue sky held a smattering of clouds lazing around. He could make out the forbidden forest, but the forest can be seen pretty much from anywhere in the Hogwarts ground, so it wasn't of much help. And years' long practice in forgetting his whereabouts had taught him that panicking wasn't going to answer. He took a deep breath and looked around himself with more care.

Ah! There it was, something familiar. Yes, the greenhouses, on the grounds of Hogwarts.

His one place of solace. A place where he soared, a place where his intelligence wasn't ridiculed, a place which he knew like the back of his hand.

He entered it finding the daily assortment of things, things that made the place what it was. The sacks of manure, breaking out a nasty odor, which was a rather inviting fragrance for him. The curious collections of plants that Professor Sprout took pride in. The pots ready to be planted with some weird plants, the dragon skin gloves, the earmuffs. All in all, it was… home.

Before he could turn back and return to his dorm, something grabbed his ankles. Ignoring the yelp that escaped his lips, he looked down and found a devil's snare wound around his ankle and pitching a hissy fit as if he had harmed it in some way. And of course, he knew better than to struggle with a devil's snare.

But something was off, he concentrated with all his might. Oh! Yes, what the bloody hell a devil's snare is doing in the middle of broad daylight. Shouldn't it be hiding somewhere, somewhere dark and shadowy? And before he could… he could think, the offending plant gave him a hard push.

His already clumsy feet gave out beneath him. And before his face would go splat, on the uneven floor of the greenhouse, Neville Longbottom woke up with a start in his bed with his sheets twisted around him and drenched in sweat.

So, it was another one of those unyielding strange dreams, he thought with a sigh.

Neville got up and leaned against the headboard and looked around his dorm, which was in pretty much the same state when he went to sleep.

There was Harry, twitching in his bed, probably having another nightmare, and Ron, babbling about chocolate frogs. And there was Dean, mumbling about that Muggle game football that he loved so much, all in all, the world around him was alright.

Little did he know that later on, it was all about to be changed?

His wand beeped from the side table, telling him it was time, he went to the greenhouse to check up on the Lava Shades that Professor Sprout had procured, with so much difficulty. Unconsciously his chest puffed up a bit thinking, that she had believed him capable enough to endow him with such a great responsibility.

Neville heaved a sigh and got up from his bed. Seeing through the windowpanes, he noticed the red streaks of light bursting out in the horizon, saying that it was time, the world woke up.

While putting his robe, he looked at himself in the mirror. Gone was the pudgy boy that Dean loved to compare with, some Muggle kid named Pillsbury dough boy. He wondered if that poor boy's parents knew that he was being made fun of. He could make out the faint traces of muscles, thanks to the uncountable hours lugging sacks of manure. Grabbing the robe from the foot of his bed, he went on his way.

He crossed the common room, absently minded, where a hearty fire was crackling in the fireplace to ward away the dawn chill. He sent silent thanks to the house elves and moved on. Thinking of elves, a bushy haired brunette friend came to his mind. He chuckled, thinking of her hare-brained schemes to free them.

Shifting his mind to the work on his hands, he immersed again in the exotic land of Lava Shades and how dawn was the best time to study about this and that, he opened the portrait of the fat lady and stepped outside.

Neville tripped sideways, as his feet landed on something soft. He gave a ladylike squeak and was suddenly thankful that no one was there to listen to it. He crouched down to find out what was the thing, which he had stepped on.

And thus received the biggest fright of his life, as he noticed, that it was someone's hand. A hand that was connected to a body, a body with a head full of riotous brown curls.

And the curls immediately gave away the person.

* * *

 _ **A/N- so what do you think?**_

 _ **Please don't forget to review. They are like a scrumptious chocolate cake on the day I am PMSing.**_

 _ **Lots of love. Review away my sweethearts.**_

 _ **Tada.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_Previously-_

 _And thus Neville received the biggest fright of his life, as he noticed, that it was someone's hand. A hand that was connected to a body, a body with a head full of riotous brown curls. And the curls immediately gave away the person._

* * *

"Hermione" Neville exclaimed.

For a couple of minutes, he was incapable of even moving his limbs. Shaking himself from the reverie. He tried to call her a couple of times but was of no use. At last giving into his inner panic, he did what he should have done earlier.

"HARRY!"

"RON!"

He screamed at the top of his lungs. The sound pierced through the silence of the Gryffindor common room and he prayed that it reached the boys in question.

Following the heavy thuds of footsteps, the two boys emerged from the portrait hole. Harry with his spectacles sitting askew on his nose, unruly messy hair sticking up in all directions and Ron in his worn out ankle showing night pants, brandishing their wands.

"What is it Neville, why were you screaming in this god-awful time?" Harry questioned as a vague exasperation crossed his face.

"Bloody hell mate! There's a limit in forgetting the password to the dorms. " Said Ron with a hint of irritation.

Nobody saw the girl lying on the floor.

Resorting to basic sign language, something that he did at the time of panic, he pointed towards the lump on the floor.

Harry directed his wand before approaching the fallen figure, a habit that he had picked up, being constantly in wars. Before he could probe her, Ron pushed him aside and moved the hair fallen on her face.

"Hermione?" Both the boys exclaimed.

"What happened to her, what are you not telling us Neville?" Ron demanded.

"I don't know Ron, I just found her lying when I was on my way to the greenhouse" Neville replied.

"We will talk about that later, now we need to tend to Hermione. Neville go and fetch Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. Now." Said Harry taking the lead, a role that he was too comfortable to be in.

Hesitating only a minute he ran to do the bidding.

"What is it Harry, what is Hermione doing out here, did you know something about it?" Inquired Ron.

"I know as much as you know Ron" replied Harry tersely.

By that time, half of the Gryffindor house woke up. Students were milling around the portrait whispering among themselves, afraid to ask the green eyed chosen boy, whose face was marred with concern, about what the mayhem was all about.

Amidst them, a red-haired, tall witch pushed her way to the front.

"What the hell was all that screaming for? You all scared the life out of me" huffed Ginny.

"It's Hermione, Ginny. Neville found her lying here," answered Harry.

Ginny gasped and kneeled beside her best friend holding her hand, concern and worry clearly on her face. Harry could make out the torrents of questions directed towards him. But before they could discuss, the head of their house came running in her green tartan night dress, her hair in rollers and worry evident on her face. Followed by the elderly Medi-witch who was mumbling about the growing cases of accidents in the castle and how maybe, it was the right time to ask Dumbledore for a raise and Merlin forbid, a vacation.

"Mr. Longbottom has already told me about the situation if you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley could kindly step aside so that Madam Pomfrey can check upon Miss Granger" ordered McGonagall.

The mediwitch waved her wand over Hermione's body and performed a diagnostic spell on her. "Minerva, she is absolutely all right!" She said with a faint air of astonishment and irritation.

"What do you mean she is alright? We found her unconscious, I think you should check if some dark magic has been done on her or not," said Harry, letting his infamous temper take the reins.

"I would prefer if you do not tell me how to do my work, Mr. Potter."

"Minerva, it looks like the girl is simply sleeping," said the elderly Medi-witch.

" _Rennervate!_ "

The girl who woke the whole Gryffindor house, albeit unknowingly, opened her eyes, blinking a few times as if to clear out the cobwebs in her mind. Before she could take a breath she was fired with tons of questions.

"Silence." Professor McGonagall's voice rang out through the corridor, followed by a hush.

"Miss Granger would you be kind enough to tell us why you are out of your dorm at this time of the day and what happened to you," asked Minerva, worry, concern and disapproval all rolled into each other, evident on her face.

Hermione looked shamefaced for a moment and then answered as if it was taking a lot of toll to remember. "Professor, I had a nightmare, and was feeling uneasy, so I thought a stroll in the corridor would clear my mind and perhaps in exhaustion I fell asleep here?" She said in a small voice as if she was not sure that, this was what had happened.

"This is a clear disregard for the rules Miss and you being a prefect, I had high expectations from you. 20 points from Gryffindor. And all of you in your rooms, straight off. And you, Mr. Longbottom, if you have special permission from Professor Sprout, then you can proceed. And I would prefer Miss Granger if you found a safer time for clearing your head. Immediately off to your rooms all of you before the day starts." Said McGonagall and then retired back to her room.

Hermione mumbled a quiet apology to the retreating back of their head of the house.

As Harry started asking, Hermione retorted "Not now Harry, later."

Why did all of a sudden Hermione felt like she couldn't remember something… something that was more important than life itself? Why did she feel like, like something had died inside her? She felt like bawling her heart out and the funny thing was, she didn't know why.

What was she doing, breaking rules like this? This just wasn't her. And the big chunk of time that she didn't remember, what about that?

She could feel a headache of epic proportions making a way into her head, so she wasn't getting any answers from there. Maybe, after a nap she could go and have a look in the library for a book. A book that perhaps specialized in finding, why you were found asleep outside the common room when you had a perfectly sound bed and you weren't even drunk.

Ignoring the concerned faces of all her friends she fled to her dorm, to remember something she was meant to forget.

The silent spectators started pouring back into the common room already forgetting about all this and chucking up it as another excitement that hugged the castle walls along with the golden trio.

And in between all this pandemonium, no one noticed the shocking flash of platinum blond hair striding towards the Slytherin dungeons, mumbling something about hexing Longbottom for 'nearly' stepping on his girl.

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 _ **A/N- so how do you like the story so far? From now onwards the real story will start. How did it all start, how did they fall for each other, how did they overcome the hate and turned it into love. Stay tuned guys. I love to listen from you.**_

 ** _And don't forget to check out my other two stories- "the five-year-old meddler" and "cucking frazzy"._**

 _ **Guys make my day and leave a review… the more the better and the faster I update ;-)**_

 _ **Tada.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/n- hey guys! Here I am with another chapter. Please do tell me, if anything is wrong. I will do my level best to rectify it.**_

 _ **Don't forget to REVIEW. The more, the awesome.**_

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 _Around one year back…_

She was late, well late according to her standards. The standards set so high that sometimes she herself found it difficult to keep up. Her bushy hair or the bane of her life, was obscuring half of her vision and with her hands full with her luggage, she had no way to push them back. With half of her field of vision, she made her way, pushing around the heavy throngs of people, her steps vibrating with excitement for the start of a new year.

It was the usual hustle bustle of the railway station, people running to and fro, some towards their work and some towards their loved ones. And some, just aimlessly strolling. Somewhere a man was shouting at the top of his lungs at someone. The perfume of various persons along with the odor of the fuel burning to power the train engines made her nose twitch.

Amidst all of this chaos, she could also make out children of her age, laughing and pushing their scarlet colored trunks, with a wide menagerie of pets perched on top of them. Their hoots and croaks, hardly audible over the din of the crowd.

And the funny thing was, no one had time to look back onto these odd assortments of people who obviously didn't fit in there. No one even turned back to look at the family of four, where two boys were fighting over a chocolate frog while their owls snoozed on the top of their trunks. No one even noticed when the above-mentioned chocolate frog made a run for its life. For merlin's sake, it was broad daylight.

She herself would have missed them if she hadn't been pushing her own scarlet colored trolley, on which her half kneazle cat, Crookskanks was dozing off. Well, that said enough about our mankind, no one had time to look apart from their own little bubble they have created. She looked at her beloved pet and smiled. Nothing disturbed that cat of hers. She had half a mind that he could sleep even in the middle of a war. And the other half of her mind scoffed that, he probably would be the mastermind behind the above-said war.

"Hermione? Sweetheart is it time already, are we late, will you be able to catch your train?" Her mother fired, back to back questions on her way.

Her mother was always worried about her fitting into the world, which didn't see her as her own. An absolutely normal dentist couple from a quiet suburban never in their wildest dreams thought that their only daughter would turn out to be a witch. So it was quite typical of them to worry about her. And sometime in bouts of doubts, she believed it too. She believed herself to be less than those who called themselves pureblood.

Because she didn't fit in either of her two worlds. At times, she felt like, she had each one of her legs in two separate boats, and you probably know how that ends.

Maybe this was what that drove her to strive for perfection. This was what propelled her to take as many subjects as humanly possible and sometimes inhumanly too. Well, what was the point of being a witch, if she can't play a bit around with time? So she worked hard, harder than anyone else. So that no one would dare to question her presence there.

Or perhaps she was a just genius to boot. Who cared about it anyway?

"Calm down mom, there is time, but we should hurry up anyway. We don't want to be late."

"You go ahead Mione, your dad and I will follow you back into your little station." There. There was the condescending tone that often her parents adopted, around her when anything related to her other life came up. As if her being a witch was some kind of a phase. Like the phase, where teenagers grow out of their gothic phase or the emo phase. And she has never held a grudge against them. Well, unless and until you have experienced the wonders of the magic world you could never understand. The feel of the power surging through your wand was indescribable. So she tried to ignore.

Trying not to dwell on these disheartening thoughts, she walked lazily as if it was a common thing for her to run into an apparently perfect solid wall, in between the platform 9 and 10.

And before she could run into the said wall, for the first time she paused and took a breath.

She closed her eyes and she did something that she had never done before.

She wished for something magical to happen, which was a weird irony in itself with context to where she was going.

She wished for, this year to go differently.

She wished that this year a certain psychotic murderer gave them all a break.

She wished someone would notice her other than the girl whose assignment they cheated off from.

She wished, that this year she would… fall in love. She wanted to feel how that elusive feeling felt like. If that word, actually lived up to the hype it created.

She wanted to blush, to steal glances and to have that feeling where hundreds of Hippogriffs stomped in her stomach leaving her gasping for breath.

She wished to be loved, she wished to be someone's whole world.

Little did she know that up above someone caught the last line of her wish list.

And when all that was said and done, with a faint beginning of smile Hermione Granger ran into the said wall… to emerge out onto the other half of her world.

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 _ **A/N- all the constructive opinions are much appreciated.**_

 _ **Please don't forget to give a review, it takes but a moment. And when you review, I walk around with a smile on my face like a moron.**_

 _ **Tada. Lots of love.**_


	5. Chapter 5

The scarlet red engine was billowing a cloud of steam as if telling all to hurry up and get onboard. An ear-splitting whistle blew past, catching the attention of everyone.

Hermione pushed through the crowd to look for the gaggle of red heads, sure that she would find her best friends in there. Before she could look further, a tall red haired boy ran towards her and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

"Can't. Breath. Ron." She wheezed.

Hearing her squeak Ron dropped her ungracefully, turning into a rather unfitting shade of crimson. Before he could ask how her summer was, she was again pulled into another crushing hug.

But this time, it was her other best friend. His jet black hair as unruly and messy as ever, which looked like they would have a comb, as their Boggart. His piercing emerald orbs alight with relief upon seeing all of them together again. It would take a long time to see that carefree Harry again, who laughed like he was on the top of the world when he flew on that death trap he called his broom. It would take a long time for him to have any resemblance to happiness. It would take a long time for being that kid again, who had looked with wonder when she had repaired his spectacles in the train in their first year. Losing his godfather had hit him the hardest and she hoped to all that was sacred that he found something to be happy about this year.

"Are you alright, Harry?" She asked, worry evident on her face.

"Well, I will be now. Because now, I have you to nag me to death, if I didn't." He replied with a smile, a genuine one.

A burst a happiness rushed through her heart as she looked upon her two best friends. Two people, who had welcomed a socially awkward bookworm into their circle or rather their triangle. As people liked to call them as the 'golden trio'.

And if a friendship forged in the middle of shoving one's wand, up in the nose of a troll, wouldn't survive… then she doubted anything else would.

The Weasleys swarmed around her like bees. There was Mrs. Weasley fussing over everyone as if they were still little kids, not on the verge of adulthood. And there, Mr. Weasley with his non-ending curiosity for the Muggle world. The twins with their heads put together, surely planning to take over the world, one prank at a time. And finally Ginny, her one of the few girlfriends, who flew past everyone, her gorgeous red hair flying behind her like a cape.

"Oh, Merlin! Hermione, you are finally here. Thank the Merlin for that. You are like the bright ray of estrogen in this sea of testosterone. I was afraid, I would grow a mustache next if you didn't arrive soon." Said Ginny followed with one of those trademark Weasley-hug.

It felt so good to laugh like this, Hermione thought. To be just a normal teenager, with normal problems of overflowing homework, idiotic friends, and stubborn acne.

Her eyes skimmed over the platform, which was, by the way, bursting with energy. She waved to some of her classmates.

She looked at the far side of the platform, where a certain family of three was also bidding goodbye. As the chilling eyes of the gray-eyed boy met with hers, he gave her a look of complete loathing that would have even withered the Whomping Willow. She did what she had done for the last six years, she returned his glare with one of her own.

Deciding to not dwell on thoughts that would make her forget her rational side and hex the bloody ferret off to some Muggle zoo, she started reciting the chapters that she had read, in her mind. Her insides were bubbling with excitement as she thought about her upcoming classes. The smell of a new parchment, the sound her quill makes when she writes in the paper, the great hall, the wonderful food that the underpaid and misunderstood elves made for them. Oh! She couldn't wait to step into Hogwarts.

As she passed around hugging one after another red head, she let a sigh of containment. Because there in the middle of the bustling platform nine and three quarters, surrounded by her mismatched friends and family, she felt as if she was home. At last.

A place where she was meant to be.

Well, the rest of the universe, be damned.

* * *

 _A/N- hello, the fair people of fan fiction. How was your week so far? I had a hectic one._

 _You know I love to hear from you, yes I do._

 _Please review XOXO._

 _Tada and a happy laundry day (at least for me)._


	6. Chapter 6

" _ **Hearts are wild creatures, that's why our ribs are... cages."**_

* * *

 _Previously…_

 _Because there in the middle of the bustling platform nine and three quarters surrounded by her friends and family, Hermione felt as if she was… home. At last._

 _A place where she was meant to be._

 _Well, the rest of the world be damned._

* * *

 _Meanwhile, on the far side of the platform, another family of three was bidding goodbye too._

He looked around himself, taking in the various sights of happiness.

The goodbye of a proud father, the hug of a loving mother, a couple intertwined within themselves; oblivious to the rest of the world, and kids running all around excited for the start of a new year. They were all so happy, ignorant of the demons and darkness just lurking outside.

A stark contrast to their own family.

Their family, which stood like a spot of darkness in the midst of a bubbling burst of colors sucking in all those hues, without giving anything back. No one even gave them a second look, some out of fear and some out of loathing. They were the family which stood on the mantle of pure blood supremacy, on death… on the agony and that too quite proudly.

The family, where a sneering father stood looking down on others, as if they deserved a place beneath his shoes. An ice queen of a mother who had donned this façade for years in fear of retribution that it looked as if it had seeped into her very bones, afraid to even embrace her only son.

Oh! How he missed the woman with flowing blond hair who ran after him in the rose gardens. The woman who wasn't afraid to show her son, how much she loved him.

Lucius Malfoy gripped his heir's shoulder, to the point that it was painful, bringing Draco back to the present.

Draco swallowed back a grimace keeping his face as blank as he could. A faint memory of an order given, over torture, flitted into his mind.

 _Malfoy's do not show weakness._

"Keep in mind Draco, a slight mistake can cost us everything that we have worked for. And I will not tolerate your yet another failure. I expect you to carry out all the orders that you were given. The dark lord has bestowed _us_ with a chance of redemption. A chance to claim back our lost glory, the glory that was snatched from us, a chance to show that we are still loyal to his cause, a chance to rise back to power. " His father sneered in an undertone, his eyes gleaming like the maniac that he was.

He scoffed in his mind. What loyalty was his father talking about, what power, what redemption. Didn't he know, that they already have lost all those things?

And loyalty, Lucius wouldn't even know what loyalty was, even if it came back and bite him in his pale arse.

He knew that the task he has been given will never lead him towards glory. A path so cocooned in darkness, that even a scrap of light was a dream of far. All he knew that by the end of this year his hands will be stained with someone's blood. He could try scrubbing, try till his hands bled, but he could never get them off. They will always be there, screaming and taunting him.

And the task, might end his life and with that perhaps his last shred of humanity too, well whatever was left of it. The brand in his left arm burned into his skin like the day that he got it. The day he had received the life sentence. The day he had kneeled and handed over his life to a psychotic maniac, in a silver platter.

He still woke up in the middle of the night, his mouth open in a silent scream.

In the next moment, he was pulled from his thoughts as his father barked a command to his wife. "Hurry up Narcissa, we don't have time to waste. Bid your son goodbye."

With his robes billowing, Lucius went leaving behind a couple of scared kids in his wake.

Before he could think, he clasped his mother's dainty hands in his own larger ones. Holding onto it a bit longer than necessary for a sixteen-year-old. And at that moment, he hated himself for being so weak, so weak that he had to hold on to his mother, like a child. As he tried to extract his hands back, his mother's hand tightened, holding on to him. He looked up into her eyes, so very different than his, but so full of love.

"Will you promise me something, Draco?" She asked slowly as if she was talking to the five-year-old kid, who didn't know why he was being punished for... for laughing.

And he knew that whatever this woman asked, he would give her. His task or his life didn't mean shite, in front of what she had lost.

A woman who loved him despite the darkness swirling around him. And he would do his level best to keep her safe and that was all that mattered.

* * *

 _ **A/N- So what did Narcissa ask from Draco?**_

 _ ***flying kisses all around*. Thanks a ton to amy jenna, lazytologin, sora and sereniteRose, you guys are absolute darlings for reviewing.**_

 _ **Review, follow and favorite, you know the whole shebang. I absolutely love all of you for the wonderful response, I was walking around with a big smile, the whole day. Thanks. I can't express how great it feels when you guys enjoy it as much as I did while writing it.**_

 _ **Tada. Much love.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N- okay… I got my first flame. And let me clear out something, the point of being on FFNET is to let go off of your creativity, to explore an alternate world and if you don't like the pairing then don't read, sweetheart. These people who take time out of their life to put on a story thinking that you all will like it and in return all they hope is some good words. And if you have nothing to say then don't, just don't go badmouthing._

 _Sorry guys (those who actually like, what I write) for rambling. I am a very sunny person, but it really hurts, when people don't understand. A big sloppy kiss to those who reviewed and followed. I know I am dragging this on, but just one more chapter then they are both off to Hogwarts._

 _And as always review if you like the chapter and most importantly enjoy._

* * *

 _It's funny how we feel so much_

 _and don't say a word,_

 _We are screaming inside and_

 _can't be heard._

* * *

" _Will you promise me something, Draco?_ "

He looked at the woman who had always loved him without any subtext, without any ulterior motive.

Hell, even his own father had a motive. The desire to continue the Malfoy line, the desire for an heir to serve his Dark Lord, this was what his father had wanted from him. He was nothing but a means to an end for him. Whenever his father saw him, he didn't see his son, he didn't see a completely different person with a different set of dreams and aims. What he saw was an extension of his blood and flesh. What he saw was someone to rectify his mistake, someone to drag into the deep bowels of agony and despair. A place, where he already was rotting.

Draco had worshipped this person. His larger than life image, his hunger for power had fascinated him right from his childhood, till… till he cursed his mother in front of his own eyes, just because she had taken her son's side.

That day the blindfold over his eyes had come undone. That day he had seen his father's real face, the monster behind the superior façade.

That day, a ten-year-old boy had grown up beyond his age.

The woman in front of him, the woman with the startling blue eyes, his mother. She, who had had always been there for him, and he would prefer dying before he said no to her. He nodded his head as his grey eyes searched curiously her face.

She took a breath as if drawing strength from some unknown source.

"Darker times are ahead, Draco. And Merlin knows, it going to get darker. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, Draco. I don't even know if we will be alive to see another day, because at this moment, son I know nothing. Every day I wake up and think that this is the last day. Every day I fear that something might happen to you. And amidst all this, if you get a chance at happiness I want you grab it with both of your hands and never let go. " she whispered.

"But mother, the task I… don't you think that I don't deserve to be happy. Maybe this was meant to be, maybe I was meant to be a failure. Maybe this was what I was supposed to deserve… this pain." He clasped his left hand, the hand marred with the sigh of death himself.

Her hands tightened a bit more as if she was drawing strength from him. The strongest woman he knew appeared weak. She continued holding onto his hands.

"No, it's all my fault. I should have done something, something more. It was my duty to save you, and I failed."

He couldn't, couldn't see her suffering so he placed a fleeting kiss on her forehead and replied with a vague smile that didn't even reach his eyes, "it was _never_ your fault, mother. We all are just pawns in this big game. I just wish… that things were different."

Narcissa Malfoy smiled a bit, thinking how much his son had grown, he had to.

"And don't you dare think that you were meant to be unhappy. We all deserve happiness. So when life presents you with one, hold on to it and never let go. Sometimes the things that look like a gross mistake on our part may turn out to be the best thing that had happened in our lives. So promise me you will grab on with both of your hands when life presents you something. Something that makes you smile, something that makes you feel. Something that maybe your salvation, Draco." She said.

He didn't know, what to say to this amazing woman standing in front of him. Because the very thought of having something, just for himself, was terrifying. He had had everything a boy could ever think of, but this… this was terrifying.

He turned his head to buy some time before answering her.

His eyes came to rest on a certain Gryffindor, laughing at something her moronic friends said.

And he hated her with all his being for being so pure, so pure that his already blacken soul could never touch. How he hated her for her perfect life with her perfect grades and the perfect set of friends. Her brown eyes swept over him, as a frown marred her face.

He gave her a look of loathing and thought how easy life would have been if she hadn't come here. If Harry Potter hadn't come here.

She broke their eye contact as if she had never seen him. And maybe she hadn't. Nobody had tried… and perhaps nobody will.

Despite something breaking inside him, he looked back into the beautiful eyes of his mother and made a decision. A decision that, he would never deny her anything, ever in life.

"Yes, mother... I will, I promise you, " he whispered back as a look of serenity washed over her face.

"Take care, my son, " she said, shutting back all her defenses in place.

It was the least he could do for her in return of her unconditional love. With a murmured take care, he bid her goodbye and pushed his way through the thickening crowd in search of an empty compartment.

To any bystander, it would have looked like a rather cold display of emotion, between an ice cold woman and his equally cold, son. But little did they know, that this was the closest both of them have ever been.

As the Hogwarts train left the platform within 'take cares' and 'goodbyes'.

Narcissa Malfoy gave a faint smile, betting her very last galleon on her seer ancestry that this was the year, which would change her only, son's life.

This was the year when Draco Malfoy would… fall in love.

* * *

 _REVIEW sweethearts! XOXO_

 _Love,_

 _Dungbomb._


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N- oooh… They are off to Hogwarts. It's going to be a wild ride from now on._

 _A sloppy kiss to all those who reviewed, followed, etc._

 _;-)_

* * *

The Hogwarts express ambled its way, cutting a swathe across the countryside, taking with it a myriad collection of hopes, aims and desires. The engine, billowing steam as white as a wise wizard's beard.

In one of the compartment sat a girl, with her shiny prefects badge pinned to her neatly pressed school uniform. They weren't anywhere near to the school, but she liked being prepared beforehand. Her body was vibrating with excitement, excitement for the New Year. As she looked around the compartment filled with her friends she felt in herself that this year was going to be different. For better or for worse, she didn't know. But she could hope. She looked out of the window, the greens and yellows of the countryside jumbling into each other forming shades that were difficult to recognize, but she smiled nonetheless.

On the other end of the train, a boy rested his head on the rattling window and looked out to the same scenery, but all he saw was different shades of grey. He closed his eyes as a bone-deep exhaustion washed over him. Unlike the girl all he wanted was to escape, from this place, from this fate. He looked around the compartment that was empty and he thanked the Merlin that no one was there to watch him break. As he closed his eyes giving in to the fatigue, unconsciously his right hand tugged the sleeve of his left one.

The train carried two people with it, who were standing on two extreme sides of the spectrum. One was of light and the other of darkness. One was of hope and the other of destruction.

Though they were going to the same destination, but they couldn't be farther from each other.

Though they didn't know but both of them were each other's destiny, each other's salvation.

Because it is needless to say, Love had rather some funky tricks up her sleeves.

And fate was a mean guy to meddle with.

* * *

 _A/N-_ _Love,_

 _Dungy!_


	9. Chapter 9

_"Somedays I wish, I could go back in life._

 _Not to change things, just to feel a few things... twice."_

* * *

The heat of the early morning sun rays dissipated the mist hovering over the forbidden forest like a witch's charm. Somewhere an arrow pinged amidst the depths of the forbidden forest, perhaps a centaur. Fascinatingly no one heard the sound of the arrow hitting the target.

No one actually knew what the insides of the Forbidden Forest held within itself.

The grounds of the Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry were devoid of any sound, unless you considered the half-giant Keeper of Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts or rather the recently appointed professor of Care of Magical Creatures, Rubius Hagrid, grunting from the exertion of chopping wood or his much-loved greyhound, Fangs whining for another breakfast. The vestiges of the last breakfast still held onto its whiskers.

The great hall that housed four long tables representing the four houses of the school were empty except those few Ravenclaws who had their head bent down reading something as if their life depended on it.

The staff table's only occupied chair consisted of a man adorned in complete black, which made his face look rather shallow and gaunt. The pasty-ness of his face was due to his aversion to the sun, what with spending all his time teaching the subtle art of potion making, rather than something exciting like being a vampire. But if you did ask the youngest son of the Weasley family regarding the above-mentioned master, he would mumble something that nearly sounds like 'blood-sucking slimy git'. Severus Snape, the man himself looked down upon his sharply hooked nose, sneering at a couple of bleary-eyed stragglers who were brave enough to wish him good morning.

Keeping with this theme, the common room of the house of Godric Gryffindor was empty too. The soft and comforting chairs and sofas were still vacant. The only disturbance was of the crackling sound of the toasty warm fire that was burning cheerily in the fireplace. Thanks to the house-elves, who despite their intense loathing towards a certain witch of that house, still tended them.

But if you took a look into the girl's dorm, unless you are a member of the male species, on which the steps would turn into a slide and you would rather fall on your sweet bottom, you could hear the sound of someone furiously scribbling.

Hermione Granger sat on her bed meticulously writing on a piece of parchment, stopping only to dip her quill into the inkpot. Her numerous book surrounding her opened to various pages. She looked as if she was a regal queen and the books were her obedient subjects.

She could feel her hair trying to escape the confines of the ribbon tied to it and make a run for freedom. She scraped back an unruly curl into the loopy bun and concentrated on the Runes book. If someone saw her now, they would think that it was perhaps the day before the examinations. Sadly that wasn't the case, seeing as it was the first day of the school. But it never hurts to read beforehand, she didn't get Outstanding in OWLS exams in all her subjects just like that.

She was, after all, the brightest witch of her age.

"Will you stop that god-awful scratching at this god-awful time?" her roommate of last five years grumbled, before pulling the blanket above her head.

"You could try getting up, Parvati. It's just a couple of hours till the classes start," Hermione replied.

Whatever Parvati replied, was lost among the blanket that she had wrapped around herself.

Hermione huffed a bit upon the antics of her roommate. Stretching to work out the kinks from her back, she displaced the sleeping Crookskanks who by the way hissed for breaking up his slumber before wrapping himself around her pillow and going back to sleep. She opened her trunk taking out a neatly pressed school uniform and made her way to the washroom. With a grimace, she dropped the used clothes in the hamper for the elves to clean. Well, you could drag a Hippogriff to the Great Lake but you can't make it drink. Trying not to get morose on the first day of school on account of her failed attempt at making S.P.E.W a success, she started to get ready for the day ahead.

By the time she made it to the common room, it was filled up to some extent. Some still grouchy from lack of sleep while some excited for the new year to start. She looked all over the place the room looking for a pair of black and red haired boys. Not finding even one of the above-said boys, she made her way towards the red haired girl who was reading a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Sitting beside her, she asked, "Anything new, Ginny?"

The read-head looked up from the paper to give the brown haired witch a beautiful smile and replied, "Hey! Good morning to you too Hermione. And no, it's the same dung that they usually stuff our faces with. Today's headline is 'The green-eyed Saviour is off to Hogwarts- will this year be the year that he defeats He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named'."

Hermione rolled her eyes and answered, "Just last year they were calling him a cheating liar. The gall of these people."

"Hey look, they even put a shirtless picture of Harry," Ginny said, a little too carelessly.

"So any plans to ask the said green-eyed saviour, out?" Hermione asked slyly.

Something resembling sadness passed across Ginny's eyes before she schooled her expression and replied with a wink, "Nah! I am happy playing the field a bit. Lots of fishes to fish."

Hermione understood her pain, so she tried smiling for her sake, "Okay, I am going to go and wake up those two, dunderheads. Don't want them being late on the first day itself."

She got up from the sofa and was heading towards the boy's dorm when Ginny's voice stopped her.

"So any plans to ask the green-eyed saviour's best friend out?"

"What… are you out of your mind, Ginny," she sputtered, feeling her face already turning warm from blushing.

And with that poorly made repartee, she strode towards the boy's dorm with Ginny's laugh still echoing through the common room.

* * *

 _A/N- I need a little help, guys. The title of the story was kind of long and tedious. So I have changed the title from "obliviate: the start to an end" to "_ _ **FORBIDDEN**_ _". So what do you think? I would love your opinion on this._

 _Kisses to those who reviewed and followed. And future kisses to those who will._

 _Love,_

 _Dungy!_


	10. Chapter 10

" _ **Pain changes people. It makes them trust less, overthink more and shut people out."**_

* * *

 _They were faceless, as always. Screaming. Torturing. Some were the painful screams of the victims while some were the maniacal gleeful screams of the monsters. It was dark and cold as death, he couldn't see a thing. The only thing was the cries, trying to shatter his eardrums. Break him._

 _It's always easy to fight the things that you can see. When you are able to see, you have an aim, you know where to hit, next. But the scariest of all... are the faceless ones. And he was scared. That feeling of total loss of your sensations. You can't see, can't hear, can't feel… All you can hope for is to die._

Draco woke up from the nightmare. It had been one hell of a night. He had tossed and turned till the dawn when he had fallen into a fitful sleep, only to be woken up shortly. He could still feel the last vestiges of his nightmare shaking his limbs. He could still feel the pain searing through his body as if it had happened now. He scraped his hands over his face, trying to make sure he was still in his school dorm, in his own bed not somewhere getting tortured. The bed was soaked with his sweat and the duvet was twisted into a grotesque shape much like his nightmare. He removed the silencing charm around his bed and got up. There was no point trying to go back to sleep when it was the last thing to come.

Draco looked up to see his roommate and best friend, or as much as you can call a Slytherin, a friend, Blaise Zabini writing something, furiously.

"Don't tell me, you have started studying on the first day of the school?" Draco drawled, the mask of practiced indifference slipping onto his face as if he was born with it.

"No, you moron. Just writing a letter to Mother. God, I hope my owl finds her wherever she is." Blaise replied blandly.

They both understood each other. Draco never asked him about personal things nor did Blaise. It was good that way. They were not like those idiotic Gryffindor's, always hugging and crying on each other's shoulders.

But maybe not always.

"Mate?" Blaise called hesitatingly.

Draco turned and looked questioningly at his friend.

"You… ah… you are alright, aren't you? And… you would tell me if anything happened? Won't you?" Blaise asked. And Draco knew it had taken a lot for him to ask.

He smirked that lazy smirk of his and replied, "Merlin's pants, Blaise, do not ask such questions, it makes you sound like a girl. Next thing you know, you have turned into Pansy and hanging off my neck like a leech. And I swear to all that's good if you do such thing I will hex off your balls. Then try finding a witch to corrupt."

Blaise folded his hands across his chest and gave a look that said, he won't be budging from there for a while till he got whatever he wanted.

And a Slytherin knows where it's needed to fold. So Draco sighed exasperatedly and said, "Okay, fine. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

And a Slytherin also knows when to stop pushing, so Blaise didn't.

It was the screams that had woken Blaise up. The screams emerging from Draco's side. The screams so loud even the silencing charm had no effect on them. And he knew that when the time comes Draco would tell him after all, they were best friends. Or as much as you can call a Slytherin, your friend.

So with a slight nod to each other, both the boys headed off towards the great hall for breakfast. And neither of them mentioned the screams.

* * *

 _A/N- I know it's a bit short, but I promise the next one will be longer. I would love to your thoughts on the changed title (by the way thanks! sereniteRose; you rock)._

 _Love to hear from you, so kindly leave a review or follow or favorite. They make me smile like a lunatic._

 _Dungy!_


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N- Damn sorry for the chapter mix up, it's a tad difficult to update from phone. Sorry, I will update soon. I hope with all my heart that you like this plot._**

 ** _I know, you all must be in a post-Christmas food coma but do leave a review, it makes my day._**

* * *

 ** _At the end of the day, faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you don't really expect it._**

 ** _Because see once in a while, once in a blue moon, people will surprise you, and once in a while people may even take your breath away._**

* * *

Draco ignored the barely touched breakfast, his appetite lost a long ago. The scrambled eggs had become runny and congealed into an inedible form, and the toast sodden under the marmalade that he had smeared on it but forgotten to eat. The mounds of food in front held no longer the appeal. He also ignored the high pitch shrieking of the creature that was, Pansy Parkinson and zeroed his gaze on his target, his task. _He_ sat there, on the staff's table. His sparkling blue eyes twinkling and smiling within themselves.

Draco doubted he had ever seen _him_ angry or in doubt. He looked as if he knew each and every secret of the universe and was just waiting for… to give a grand entrance. He looked every bit the wise wizard he was known for. The half-moon spectacles perched upon his once broken nose. The nose that Merlin himself didn't know how it was broken.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the headmaster looked through his spectacles to the throngs of students enjoying their breakfast on the first day of the school, as if he was a genial king looking upon his subjects. And Draco Malfoy looked at him.

Draco could feel the mark on his hand, simmering and slithering as if it was alive and thriving, and he remembered what he had been ordered to do. He tugged his sleeves to cover the already covered hand, his hand itching to scratch that mark out of his skin.

He thought about his mother, doing Merlin knows what in that dank, a desperate and dark mansion that they called home. It's been a long time since the Malfoy Manor had seen any happiness. The home that nowadays housed the Dark Lord himself.

No… no… no, he can't back out now he thought, panic overwhelming his heart into overdrive. He couldn't unless he wanted to meet a gory death. He had to do it to protect his mother, to prove his worth as a Malfoy. Because if he wasn't that then he was nothing. And he hated himself, hated himself for trying to be someone he absolutely loathed, someone like his father.

As his hand tightened around the fork, he didn't remember picking up. He just wanted that the headmaster would die. Oh! He was a coward, he knew that. He was a coward, who didn't have in him to kill a person. The generations of Malfoy's would be rolling in their graves, spitting at his very name. All he wanted was for, Albus Dumbledore to die, may be due to a dark curse or maybe of old age, just something. Something, where he didn't have to raise his wand and see his pathetic life, end in a flash of green.

And thus, a plan formed in his mind. A plan which would end with the end of their much-loved headmaster and without Draco raising his wand at him. Without him having to cast his first killing curse.

He was still looking at him, and suddenly his breath stopped for a moment, when the man himself, Dumbledore, looked straight into him. His clear blue eyes reading him up as if he had picked his very thought from his mind. As if he knew, Draco Malfoy was plotting his demise. Draco would have fainted, instead, the probing eyes of the headmaster softened… in understanding perhaps and the smile was back within them.

Dumbledore turned his gaze towards Minerva McGonagall and continued smiling like everything was good in the world. Like a deatheater wasn't sitting few paces from him scheming his death.

Draco left out the breath that he was holding. With his hands still shaking, he picked up the goblet of pumpkin juice unsteadily and gulped it in one go, for a much-needed relief.

Severus Snape lowered his goblet and looked at his godson, who was throwing daggers at the headmaster. God, that kid was a moron. Any darn wizard worth his weight can read that mind like a darn open book. Even that fool of a Weasley can read him. He released a long suffering sigh imagining the feats he had to scale, to save his godson, from himself. Draco was himself his greatest enemy, he thought to himself.

 _Damn you, Narcissa. God, only if he wasn't so in love with her._

 _And damn you Dumbledore, for holding that over his head._

* * *

 ** _Hoping to hear from you as always._**

 ** _Love. Dungy!_**


	12. Chapter 12

**_Attention! Attention!_**

 ** _Dear readers,_**

 ** _The time has come to help dear old DUNGY! Here. I am in severe NEED of a beautiful creature known as the "BETA". What are the social niceties of asking one beta's hand for the holy union of minds? Where does one find such fine creatures? Do I need to do some archaic celebratory dance in the woods? Or offer a virgin? Ask Dumbledore for some antiquated spell?_**

 ** _She/he should be able to help in continuation of the story (as I tend to jump from one scene to other like Trevor), dialogue writing (I kind of suck), help with the plot when writers block hits like a ton of bricks._**

 ** _Do not worry my friend, you will be praised like the holy god in my stories. I will even do the festive dance… not kidding._**

 ** _Love,_**

 ** _Dungy. (Review guys; they make me swoon. Kill me with them. Kisses.)_**

* * *

" _ **Today you are YOU. That is truer than true. There is no one alive no one YOUER than YOU!"**_

 _ **Dr. Seuss**_

* * *

"Make way for the green eyed saviour. The chosen one. The golden underpants of the Merlin himself. The one and only…. Harry freaking Potter! " said the red-haired best friend of the chosen one, Ron Weasley, spewing half the Gryffindor table with breadcrumbs. The announcement ended with a boom drawing the attention of the rest of the table as a fellow Gryffindor, Seamus, set his goblet of water on a fire, again. It had been five years and he still hadn't learnt that an eye of the rabbit or the humming of the harp can't change water into rum.

The man in question, Harry red-faced from all the attention, as usual, sat down awkwardly beside Ron and tried in vain to quieten him.

"RON! Shut up and try eating like a human being without showing the half of the world, what the insides of your mouth look like," the other, sensible best friend of the chosen one, bushy-haired Hermione Granger, hissed. It was outside the horizon of her knowledge, which was weird considering she was the brainiest of them all that how could a guy stuff so much in his mouth. It was physically impossible. Her face contorted into a slight disgust, as she eyed Ron's plate which was overflowing with sausages, scrambled eggs, toast slathered with butter and if you stared really hard you could make out the bacon stuffed under all that food. She looked at her own meagre breakfast of porridge and the apple she was going to take a bite from and sighed.

"Oh! Loosen up dear, Hermione! This year is going to be different, this year shall mark the beginning of a new dawn. The start of a glorious year ahead. Because this is the year, we do not have Potions! The 'Exceeding Expectations' in that subject took care of it. Goodbye to smelly dark dungeons and goodbye to prejudicial greasy gits who have forgotten the invention called shampoo. Forever." Said Ron with a smile that was threatening to swallow up his face as he stuffed his already overflowing mouth with another sausage.

"Well, I will drink to that, Ron," said Harry, raising a goblet in celebration and tried to get out of the line of fire of crumbs.

"Not you too, Harry" huffed Hermione.

Before Harry could reply, Lavender Brown, a fellow housemate who was making sickeningly moony eyes at the loud Weasley boy, chirped, "Hey! Everybody, look at that portly man on the staff's table? Do we know him?"

All the students peered above one another to get a look at the said man. The realization of a new addition spread among other houses too as the great hall filled with murmurs.

"Never seen him before, he must be the new Defence against the Dark Arts professor." Neville Longbottom piped up raising his head for a moment from the Herbology Today that he was engrossed in.

"I hope at least he doesn't turn out to be a pompous arrogant toad, or else we would have to set Hermione after him, to feed him to the centaurs, of course," replied Harry with a sly smile of his own.

Hermione threw a look of censure towards Harry but the blush trying to engulf her face showed that she was damn proud of what she had done. She looked at the new addition to the staff and it would suffice to say that she was having mixed reaction. She had been through professors who didn't last longer than a year and she hoped that he was, at least, a step above that toad Umbridge.

All of them looked up at the staff's table, just as then, Dumbledore stood up drawing the attention of all the students. He cleared his throat and said with a clear voice that rang throughout the hall.

"Welcome… to the beginning of another exciting new year. I am going to be a dear, and not give another tedious welcome speech. I am rather sure that you all are eager for your classes to start." He smiled serenely as the children groaned, well, except Hermione who actually sat a bit straighter and beamed. "I am here to give an important announcement that is, Mr. Horace Slughorn, ex-professor of this wonderful school and a dear friend of mine has so graciously accepted the post of teaching. He will be occupying his past post of being the potion master. He couldn't attend the welcome feast due to some personal delay. But he is here now, and I hope, you all will welcome him with open arms."

There was a pin drop silence, there was no clapping, no shouts that generally accompanied when there was a new addition to the staff. Everyone was staring at the man clad in black, waiting. Waiting for him to do something, perhaps hex the new potions master who was, by the way, unknown to the tension, grinned warmly.

Gradually the great hall filled with murmurs, whispers and buzzing sound as children began talking among themselves. Some boy shouted amidst the melee, "Is Professor Snape getting sacked?" with the question ending with a round of boos and hurrahs.

"Oh, Merlin! How silly of me. Old age is playing tricks on my mind or it might be one of those brilliant concoctions of the Weasley twins. I enjoyed one of their Confunding Cakes this morning. Ah! The joys of being young again. It would suffice to say that Professor Sprout found a very confused headmaster loitering in the corridor. Anyway, I forgot to mention that the Defence against the Dark Arts will be taught by our very own Professor Severus Snape. I was waiting for Professor Slughorn to join before I made the announcement. Go on. Don't be shy, give him a warm welcome too. And wait a moment Professor McGonagall has timetables to give out. "

The new Defence against Dark Arts Professor looked at them sneering, with a gleeful smile. The whole hall was shrouded in silence before the Slytherin table burst into an ear-splitting applause. Gradually the other tables joined in though the Gryffindor's were the last one to join. Hermione looked over the house which was by far the happiest. Each and every one of them was clapping and shouting, sodding snakes she thought. Except one gray eyed boy who was staring at his head of the house with apprehension. She filed it in her head to discuss with Harry, later.

With a twinkle and a smile, Dumbledore left the hall with the swish of his midnight-blue robes.

Harry hissed to his best friends, "Oh! I am sure that git must be really happy, as happy as a perpetual sadist can be. He had always wanted that post. I really have to go and talk to Dumbledore. What the hell was he thinking?"

"Not to sound like a broken record, Harry. But it's Dumbledore, he always has a reason behind everything he does," Hermione hissed back.

"Oh! Merlin, we are gonna have him now in DADA too. Great! Now I have to again face him. I thought he was gone… from my life forever. He is going to ruin DADA for me. " Said Ron still gaping like a fish out of water, panic evident on his face.

Hermione flicked the newspaper on Ron's face and reminded him to, not to forget to breathe. His face was turning a weird shade of red, which was alarming. But somewhere in the dark recess of her mind, she was quite happy about the change, about Snape teaching Defence against Dark Arts, after all, he knew the subject inside out. After all, he had lived through it. It would be different to be taught by someone she knew wouldn't treat them like idiots, someone who wouldn't stick them to ministry issued book and expecting them to remember without raising even their wands. Her hatred for him was a small thing which she can ignore if he really was going to teach them how to defend themselves.

With a flick of McGonagall's wand, a bunch of timetables distributed themselves among the students.

"Oh Merlin, No, no, no, please Hermione, tell me this is a nightmare and I am going to wake up soon?" said Ron as he plastered the timetable on her face, bringing her back from her inner musings.

She huffed and squinted with difficulty trying to read, what with Ron shaking it as if a spider was stuck to it.

"Mr. Weasley would be kind enough and tell us why are you creating such a ruckus? " Professor McGonagall asked already miffed with the young Weasley boy.

"Professor, I think you have given me the wrong timetable. Why am I still having bloody, Potions?" said, Ron.

"Same here, Professor." Said Harry.

"Five points for the abysmal language Mr. Weasley. And I did not make any mistake. These are you timetables only. "

"But we got only, Exceeds Expectations in our OWLS. Don't we need an Outstanding, to attend potions?" both the boys said simultaneously.

"Well, you needed it when Professor Snape was teaching but Professor Slughorn is relatively lenient than him. He is quite okay with accepting students with Exceeds Expectations. Looks like you both got lucky." She replied blandly.

"But, Professor we didn't get the books," asked Harry, still the sensible one but hoping for some miracle to happen, while Ron was doing a fair imitation of Grawp.

"You could ask, Professor Slughorn to let you use one of the old potions books till you arrange with Flourish and Botts to deliver you, new one's."

"But… what… why?" stammered Ron which the transfiguration professor ignored and went on her way.

Hermione got up and shouldered her bag that carried the zillions of books, she carried in case she had a mind to do some light reading and with a cat that got the delicious cream smile she left for her first class in Runes with a parting repartee at the still flabbergasted boys.

"Not feeling so glorious now, aren't you."


	13. Chapter 13 (first potion's class)

_**A/N- okay first of all, sorry for the reposting mishap (thanks, Jules-Millicent for pointing out). I am new to FFNET, so please bear with me as I make mistakes. That won't happen again. I swear on Dumbledore's grave.**_

 _ **In this chapter, you will see that it's not consistent with the book or the movie. To make it consistent, I would have to reread the book and frankly, I have very little time as it is. So I made up as I went along. Hope you all will like it and be lenient and won't go nuts about it.**_

 _ **Please review, follow, and favourite you know the works. They make my day sunnier, birds more chipper, etc. A big hug to those who reviewed.**_

 _ **And on a completely different note, the next chapter will be their 'MEET CUTE'. Woohoo! I am damn excited. ;-)**_

* * *

Maybe, just once, someone will call me "sir" without adding, "you're making a scene."  
― Homer Simpson

* * *

Batches of potions sat bubbling happily in a myriad of cauldrons. Some pewter, some silver and some in gold. Each and every cauldron held a distinct potion. Some potions were clear as a cloudless sky, some swirling like the horizon before an upcoming storm. Some thick and crude like mud while some were simmering like charmed liquid gold. The fumes of one merged with another creating an atmosphere of lazy disposition. The vapours from the potions creating a mist that spread through the dark and musty dungeon shrouding everyone in a hazy layer.

The bunch of students stood in crazy attention waiting for the new professor to utter something, waiting for him to make the first move, waiting to map him out.

Professor Horace Slughorn cleared his throat and pointed at a cauldron and asked what it was.

Amidst all the cauldrons a cauldron made up of gold stood out like Hagrid amongst, well, normal sized people. The mother of the pearl sheen and the characteristic spiral mist hovering over it like a worried mother over her child made it look ethereal like… like, love.

He looked lazily at the potion, the Amortentia or better known as the love potion simmered merrily. He waited for some moronic sod to answer the professor. And as always her well-practiced hand shot up like a bullet even before the professor finished asking the question.

 _God, I hope her hand gets cursed and stuck like that, forever. She just can't stop herself from showing off, can't she? Look at me, look at me, I am the brightest, I am the most genius, I am the fucking muddiest,_ Draco thought as a sneer formed involuntarily on his lips.

"I wish her hand gets stuck in that position forever. Then she wouldn't have to keep jumping like she has a blast ended skewrt screwed to her arse, each and every time that moron of a professor opens his mouth to ask anything," Draco whispered to Blaise as both the boys broke into guffaws of evil glee.

With Snape gone, now the potion's class had turned into a typical one. Same old, same old, the teacher would ask some inane questions and the bushy haired beaver quivering with anticipation would put everyone to shame and exhibit how huge her brain is like her front teeth. There would be no Snape sneering on the face of the girl with the disastrous hair, there would be no one to put that uptight witch in her place, Draco thought with disdain.

"Oh my! We obviously have an intelligent girl amongst us then. I hope you will do wonderfully. Take a well-earned twenty points, Miss Granger." The professor replied warmly.

 _Yeah right. God! The professor is even a bigger sucker,_ Draco scoffed into himself.

As the class moved to take their respective place, Draco passed beside the simmering cauldron full of Amortentia. The fragrance smacked him right in the face, stopping his steps almost unwillingly. It was nothing like anything he had ever come across and it was supposed to be of things that he was in love with. The scent, that made his head reel.

It was a bewildering mixture of the perfume that his mother was fond of with a hint of the musty smell that you get when you opened an old book. It also held traces of the smell of the wood-polish that he used to polish his broomstick with. He knew all these perfumes, these were the things that he was affectionate about. But the most startling of the smell was that of vanilla with smidgens of… was that apple?

 _What the hell was that!_ He thought _._ He didn't know anything that smelled like that and above all it was dominating all the other smells, standing out like… like an unfamiliar among the familiar.

Before he could ruminate the new finding, Blaise gave him a slight push to move onto their seat.

* * *

Hermione could feel her hair puffing up into epic proportions from the heat spiralling up from her cauldron. She looked at the portly professor standing at the front of the class as he popped a pineapple candy from a box. His overcoat buttoned with obvious force was on the verge of bursting and taking someone's eye out.

He would move through the class and sometimes ponder or sometimes sniff over someone's portion. And wherever he would make a circuit around her, he would give a blindingly toothy smile and it would suffice to say her incessant hand-raising at the beginning of the class had borne results. But she still had to prove to him, to herself.

Towards her left Neville muttered in panic as he read through the textbook furiously, his eyes roving over the yellowed pages of the book as he tried finding the step from where he went wrong. The liquorice colour of his potion which should have been a pale lavender was giving a rotten egg like smell. Hermione tilted her head and hissed in an undertone, "Neville, you should have added the valerian roots chopped in equal size and then stirred counter-clockwise."

"Hermione, what should I do? Merlin, with Snape gone I thought that maybe potions would go well now. But damn all, perhaps my Grandmother was right. I should have dropped potions," he babbled, dread obvious on his face.

"Oh! Buck up, Neville. There's no point crying over spilt potion. Add the roots now and then stir, hopefully, the colour might clear up to some extent." Hermione hissed back.

"Hermione, the potion has turned into burnt liquorice not spilt, what are you saying?" Neville rambled on.

Hermione sighed and replied, "Neville, it's a muggle saying… Uh! Never mind."

For a moment, she was afraid of a greasy voice shouting for aiding Neville, again. But there was no docking off of points from the house of lions, rather the new-fangled amiable potion's master looked around the class oblivious, to their conversation.

Ron snapped feverishly as an eel's eye slipped from his grasp and hit Hermione right in between her eyes.

"Ouch! Ron!" Hermione said as she stared at him irritably, rubbing her forehead.

"Sorry, Mione." Ron quipped and turned back to grapple with the eel's eye.

Hermione overlooked the guilty expression of her best friend. In the five years, she had been with him, something or the other had always hit some or the other part of her body after making a much-needed escape from his hands. She still remembered the day in the third year when she had walked around the school with a Newt's eye dangling from her wild hair. And needless to say, a certain albino ferret had an awesome time that day.

"Hermione, pass me the silver dagger, would you?" Harry asked.

"Uh… Huh sure, Harry." She replied absent minded as she stirred her potion and then almost in a reflex she added, "Hurry up, Harry. It takes a lot of time to extract the juice from the sopophorous beans and you don't have much."

And the next thing she knows, a copious amount of juice from the beans had sprayed all over the table. She looked surprisingly at Harry.

"Good lord, how did you do that? I literally had to coax out the juice from the beans while yours is spewing like a faucet."

"Instead of cutting try crushing the beans with the side of the dagger" harry replied with a guilty smile.

"What no, that's not what's written in the book, here, see for yourself," she replied as she pushed her own potion's book towards him.

"But mine says so," Harry whispered back with a smirk.


	14. Chapter 14 (the meet cute not!)

_*drumroll please* Here it comes. And I am now in TUMBLR ... You can ask me question, or give suggestions, rant, troll... Do anything you like. I am under the same pen name._

* * *

" _ **There is always a thin line in between love and hate and sometimes you don't even know on which side you stand."**_

* * *

"What the hell was he thinking, was he even thinking at all and after what happened with Ginny. The bloody nerve of him! That prat!" Hermione fumed.

"Taking instructions from a ruddy book. What was the name… hah... half-blood prince … pfft … I can bet on my bushy hair that, that book is up to no good. Merlin's soggy under things, he wouldn't even allow me to check it. What if it was…" she was even afraid to think about it. She shivered unconsciously as she remembered the dark time during her second year. Her red-haired best friend's pale face came into mind, her own petrification came into her mind. The constant fear that something bad was going to happen. She was scared and worst of all she was worried out of her mind. She had warned Harry but again that was like telling Crookskanks not to shed on the bed.

And amidst all feelings, she was going to ignore the intense guilt rushing through her. So what if she came second in something. It's not always necessary to come first… isn't it? And then Harry is her best friend, her brother. She shouldn't be having these feelings at all. She can't and she won't get mad at Harry. But then a completely annoying voice quipped in her head, _but he cheated, didn't he. It was not his work. You came second to someone, maybe you are losing your touch, Hermione. Maybe you are losing your place._

"Gah! Stop it." She shouted at no one or rather at the infuriating voice that won't leave her alone. Her voice rang through the empty corridor.

 _God, no. She won't define herself with how much she could cram into her brain. With how many huge tomes she could remember. She had friends, friends who loved her. She belonged here. She won't let herself be defined by how much marks she got. And it was Harry. He had never despised you for coming first, never. And it would be a shitty thing if she held it against him,_ she thought.

She recalled how Harry's face had shone when Professor Slughorn compared him with his mother. His emerald green orbs had lit up like a child on a Christmas morning. He had always been likened with his father in the quidditch pitch but it was for the first time someone had associated him with his mother for something other than the striking eyes both of them shared. And she would have to be a complete arse to take that away from him.

Thinking that Hermione took a decision that she would confront Harry about the book and then check the book for any dark spell and then… return it back to him. She pushed the feeling of iniquitousness to some dark crevice of her head and hope it would get lost among the thousands of things that roamed in it.

"Oh god! I have to do something. Even if it means I have to face Harry's anger and knowing Ron, his too."

That's the way Hermione Granger was wired, her two buffoons of best friends ran headfirst into a situation and she was the irritating rational voice behind, trying to rescue them out of tricky places. Six years and still counting, she was supposed to be a bit habituated by now. But no.

With all this thoughts fuming in her head she stormed through the corridor towards her arithmancy class. She thanked merlin that she would have some respite from those two idiots.

Well, that was short-lived.

She shifted the millions of books that were balanced precariously in her hand, towering over and making it difficult for her to see. She hurried as she was getting late for her class. The clacking of her lonely footsteps echoed through the silent passageway but it was soon joined by another.

A flash of blond hair strode past, knocking her off her feet. A dozen or so books flew from her hands, landing all over the corridor. Before she could centre her body she toppled over face first onto the herd floor. Her nose met the stone floor with a thud and the gush of warmth on her face made her realize that a broken nose might just be added to the ever-growing list of inadequacies of her face. A pair of shiny leather shoes came into her field of vision and started tapping in a maddening cadence as if it was the most tiresome place to be in.

"Tsk, tsk, Granger. I didn't see you, what with the muddy colour of the floor matching your body. Well, at last, you found your place at last, beneath me where you should be" his voice crawled through her spine as if someone scraped their nails over a board.

"Did you die there, Granger, though I know that would be a news of delight? Or is it the embarrassment that caused your untimely death? Who knew that the bushy haired beaver wore red knickers though I am somewhat partial to green" she could hear that blasted smirk in his tone as he said those words.

Well, that got her attention, Draco Malfoy should never ever have seen her knickers. She sat upright with a rush, her head reeling a bit as she tried to gather her bearing. She could feel her cheeks getting warm in mortification and turning into bright red like the tomatoes Hagrid grew in his garden. She was damn well going to risk imprisonment in Azkaban because just hexing him won't do it. She would like to disembowel him, piece by piece and then feed it to Buckbeak then burn whatever remained of his nasty self in a bonfire and then dance around it like the witch she was. And then she was going to castrate him so that he won't be capable of seeing anyone's knickers… in his ghost form, because he would be long dead by then.

Oh, wait! Damn! She remembered it then, it was Wednesday or fairly known to her compulsive self as the standard black knickers day. Shaking her head for letting that ferret get to her, she stood up and looked at that bloody face of her sworn enemy.

Arrogance – check.

Bloody smirk – check.

Blond hair plastered to his head, that even a hurricane couldn't shake – check.

Half amused smile as if he did the whole world a grace just by breathing – check.

The general feeling of disgust on seeing the said girl – check.

The general feeling arsehole-ness pouring out of every inch of his body – check, bloody check.

Sexy grey eyes – che… where the hell did that come from?

Maybe she had hit her head along with her nose. Well, damn the Merlin himself.

Ah, that brought back to her broken nose, which was still bleeding. She looked at her hands smeared with her blood.

"Episky!" she muttered the spell with a wince as her cartilage set back into place with a crack.

"What's the matter, beaver, no witty remarks, and no scathing comeback? Or have you done the world a huge favour and finally lost that snotty brain of yours?" he asked with that freaking half smile still in place.

"Oh no, Malfoy the day I would lose it would be a cold day in hell. And moreover I was a little worried that maybe your ferret-sized brain might not process whatever I say, so why to waste my breath." She smirked back at him.

His smile dimmed a bit as he spoke, "whatever, Mudblood."

"Awww, Malfoy same old, same old. You have been throwing that word around so much that it has lost its meaning though to tell you the truth, I never got it in the first place. What is it Malfoy, too slow to think up new insults? Maybe if you were super good and bullied a couple of helpless first years, then may be dearest daddy death eater would buy you a new shiny brain. And if that's of a ferret, then bloody good for you Malfoy, your body perhaps won't reject it, what with it being of the same species" snapped Hermione.

"Well, there's the insufferable know-it-all we all know and hate," he said. "And why the hell were you running around like a headless chicken as if your bushy head was on fire though that would be a kindness to the humanity."

"Oh! My, my, are you concerned about me, Malfoy. I thought I would never see that day."

She accio'd her books, which piled upon themselves into a neat stack and flew into her hands.

"Huh concerned about you? I would probably go and live in the weasel's hovel of a home then be concerned about you" he huffed with barely suppressed anger and disgust.

"And what did my eyes witnessed today, the greatest witch of our time… pfft… the one who named you as such would have been shit faced over a barrel of fire whisky. Well nevertheless where was I, ah yes! I heard pothead Scarface pushed you off the teacher's pet seat quite nastily. Was that what got you all in a snit."

"Maybe the perfect Gryffindor isn't perfect at all," he said with a malicious wink.

That's it. That's it, enough was enough? Maybe it was the guilt that whatever he said actually held a trace of truth in them. She focused all her anger and pushed the blond-haired boy, who fell with a thud on the very same floor on which she was splattered a moment ago.

"Wow, Granger resorting to violence like a common muggle. Well damn, I forgot, YOU are a common muggle. Filthy, Mudblood!"

"Get stuffed Malfoy!" She tossed back at him.

"And by the way, that's my muddy blood on your precious robes, might want to burn it. What if you catch something horrid from me, something like common sense? But then that would do you some good, wouldn't it."

It took a little time for him to reply back and within that she was gone in a whoosh of flying robes and righteous indignation. Damn, how dare her get the last word. Well, he would have to seek her out again.

Bloody witch!

As he looked down at his once pristine white shirt, now marred by two bloody handprints. He saw the redness of her blood, so like the blood red roses that his mother was so fond of. The redness of her blood without a trace of mud.

The redness of her blood, raw and red as his own.

If he bled now would it look any different?

Was there any difference?

Or was it all mere wisps of talk?

Trust Granger to wind him up.

With a sigh he straighten up and replaced the shirt with another, conjuring it out from thin air. As he strode towards his already late Runes class he didn't know why he had shrunk the shirt and placed it in his pocket inside the robes rather than burning it into ashes.

The shirt still carrying her bloody handprints, bright and red as his own and that damn scent of vanilla and apples still following him like a shadow.

* * *

 _ **A/N- to me Draco had always held a torch for Hermione. Otherwise, no guy would go out of his way to pick on a girl, if he didn't like her. And the bullshit about doing it to goad Harry, I mean Draco could have just said a 'yo mama' joke and Harry would have taken his head off. But no he had to be a jerk to Hermione.**_

 _ **And as always review, favorite, follow, love, enjoy… yadda… yadda… Please point out any grammatical or spelling mistakes, I proof-read it in a hurry. sorry.**_

 _ **Love, Dungy!**_


	15. Chapter 15

**I am fulfilling my stalker tendencies by following people in Tumblr, you can fulfill yours by following me, I am under the same pen name. Pretty please.**

 _ **Wish me luck for my semester-ending exams (my presence might be scarce here for some time).**_

* * *

 **"All change is hard at** first,

 ** _messy in the middle_**

 ** _and gorgeous at the end..."_**

* * *

He entered the class with a swish of his black robes with a grand entrance he so liked, making him look larger than he really was, making him look more menacing than he really was. Professor Severus Snape, the newly appointed Defence against the Dark Arts looked at the bunch of dunderheads that he had had the misfortune of teaching potion for years.

The class was tranquil as the sky before the storm, no one moved, no one uttered any sound. Even the clumsiest of all, Neville was trying to curb his hands from knocking out things from its places. As they say, we do the things that we avoid the most, he pushed off the inkpot from the bench, but the inkpot never had time to hit the floor. Before it could, Severus placed it back with a flick of his wand.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Longbottom for being your inept self, as always," He said silkily.

"Dark Arts! As the name suggests it's an art, dangerous nonetheless but still an art. It not just shoving one's wand up another's nose… it's the subtle art of reading the opponent's mind. When you are in the middle of a duel do not just cast the first spell that comes to your mind… but try reading his mind, try looking into his head… try mapping his steps. Take a trip into the deep and dark crevice of his mind. Think what he is going to cast next. Think what the best way to maim him is. That's when you will be able to defend yourself. You don't need a bunch of spells with bells and whistles to win, all you need is an opportune incantation, " Severus Snape said quietly to the class which was sitting in rapt attention soaking up each and every of his words. No one said a word, no one dared to say a word. It was as if the whole class was in a trance.

Snape looked at the class at large and two boys stood out. Two boys who sat at the opposite ends of the class so like the opposite sides they stood for. One with hair dark as dusk but fighting for the light. And the other, white as alabaster but standing in the middle of the dark night. One was the epitome of all that he hated and the other, his godson whom he had loved like his own.

Severus watched the white-haired boy, a boy who had no choice, a boy who wasn't given any choice. A legacy, the boy was hoisted upon due to the chance of his birth. The world, which the boy was pulled into just because his father made an error in judgement.

Nobody saw him as the boy who wanted to be a healer.

Nobody saw the boy whose eyes shone when he got a potion right.

Nobody saw the boy who had lived with so much unhappiness that he had forgotten to laugh.

He would save him, whatever it may take. He would not allow anyone to make a killer out of him. Oh! He knew all about the task Draco had been given. Draco never told him, he was proud like that. But Severus hadn't lived under the shadow of the dark Lord without closing his mind off or without opening the most closed off mind. After all, he was one who had taught Draco the subtle art of closing one's mind skilfully. It had taken him time but he had learned what important task Draco has been given and he was damn proud that it had taken him a long while to see through his mind.

Then and there Severus had pledged that would not repeat the mistake he had committed on that fateful Halloween night sixteen years back. This time, he would stand in front of his boy and do all he can to save him. This time, he would protect him… unlike the last time.

* * *

The Professor spoke about Dark Art as if it was breathing as if it was alive, slithering and hissing. He talked about it as if it was a lost lover, almost… with a loving caress. And Draco knew why his godfather was so immersed in it. Because it was next to impossible to be bone deep in something and not form a bond with it.

He was shocked when Dumbledore had announced that Snape would be taking DADA from now on. He never had any inkling about it. In all the meetings he had had with Snape in the summer holidays, he had never mentioned about it. All the meetings when the Dark Lord had summoned them or the ones they had been alone because it was getting suffocating in the Malfoy Manor, what with the death eaters thinking it was okay for them to sully his ancestral house.

But it suited him.

This was what he was supposed to teach because there can no better teacher than Snape to teach Defence against Dark Arts. What's better than a man who had lived in it for years long, a man who was still living in that nightmare? His godfather's silky voice flowed him, making him remember all the time they had spent together.

No one looked beyond the sneering face of his godfather. No one looked beyond the man's foreboding stance.

Nobody saw the man who was more of a father than godfather.

Nobody saw the man who had patted his back whenever he got anything right.

Nobody saw the man who had taken him to a muggle park and showed that the muggles were not the vermin his father harped about. But then he already knew that, what with being punched in the face by the beaver-toothed girl in the third year.

Nobody saw the man who had taken him in when things at the Malfoy Manor had turned worse.

Some moron from the back of the class quipped, "So Professor, you are quite sure that… that war is inevitable?"

Draco scoffed in his mind, they were already in the middle of a fucking war and he is asking now If it's evitable or not. Hell, he was sharing his roof with the war instigator. Every freaking day was a struggle. A struggle between what he wanted and what he had to do. Some people had it so easy, with their righteousness and altruism. The world was just divided into right and wrong for them, into white and black. But people like him knew that the world was nothing but different shades of gray.

As he regarded the golden trio and the look of understanding that passed in between them at the name of war was damn difficult to miss. The brain of the trio sat scribbling with renewed vigour as if her life depended on it. While his sullied shirt sat, still burning a hole in the robe pocket.

"You know, if you stared any harder at Granger, she would have a hole in the place her head is supposed to be" Blaise mused loudly from the seat beside him.

"Don't be daft, Zabini. I wasn't staring at her." Draco replied with contempt.

"Of course, you weren't, Draco" Blaise replied almost silkily that earned him a look from the said boy.

The note of condescension was certainly hard to oversight.

* * *

 _ **A/N- I hope Snape and Draco's relation was really like this. It takes a lot for a proud man like Draco to break down. I wish someone has his back. Even if it's Snape.**_

 _ **Review sweets!**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N- So sorry for the late update, been swamped with work.**_

 _ **And I am still in shock about Alan Rickman's death. He was such a great actor, and no can possibly ever take his place as Snape. I hope he is up there calling everyone a dunderhead while flying around in his black robe with absolute sass and sarcasm.**_

 _ **RIP Alan Rickman.**_

 _ **And cancer, you BITCH! Hope you die.**_

 _ **I hope you all will like the chapter. A word or two from you people is all the encouragement I need.**_ _ **And a big hug to all those who reviewed because without your help, I don't think 100 reviews would have been possible. Thank you, thank you... so much.**_

* * *

It was one of those Sunday mornings when even lifting one's finger was same as facing Snape in double Potions, let alone get up and go for breakfast. Last night had been bone wrecking, as Hermione had slogged off till faint pink streaks had broken out in the eastern horizon that had left her knackered and a little wound up. She had kept on tripping in one of her Runes essays but at the end, she had made it through. The joy of finishing up her homework before time had always made her happy like... like Hagrid finding an illegal Dragon's egg.

After trying to sleep in, for the eighth unsuccessful time, Hermione woke up and stretched so lithely that even Crookskanks would have been proud of. She freshened up and slithered into a pair of her most comfortable jeans, the jeans had faded along the seams and creases and hugged her body like a dream, which she teamed up with a blue t-shirt, her typical clothes on a lazy Sunday. Throwing her wild curls into a haphazard bun, she stood in front of the mirror that occupied half of the wall of her room that she shared with two other girls.

Most days the mirror had a horde of girls in front of it pushing each other off, applying make-up and then reapplying it while she would just skim along it checking out if her uniform was precise or not or if her hair actually needed a comb through. After she had reparo-ed her comb, of course. The memory of lost bout the comb had had with her 'villainous mane' came back with a wince. But unlike most day, today her dorm was empty. So she stopped for a bit, doing something completely out of her character.

She gazed at her reflection, at the brown haired girl staring back at.

Hermione considered her non-evocative dull brown eyes. Nothing like the startling emerald greens that her best friend Harry spotted, so green that they feel as if they would suck you into them. They weren't even the icy blue like Ron, blue like the clear warm sky. Hell, they weren't even metallic grey like that ferret, Malfoy, which were like a storm brewing within themselves.

Hermione freed the mass of curls from the confines of the bun and ran her fingers through them. Her curly hair or rather the bane of her life. They were plain too, simple, unassuming and in short ordinary unlike the fiery red color Ginny had, that drew guys to her like flies to honey. She didn't have legs that went on for miles like Lavender neither she had the exoticness like, Padma. All in all the girl in the mirror staring back at her was completely average, ordinary and plain.

She wasn't someone boys fell over themselves to be with, she wasn't someone for who epic love stories were written.

Hermione sighed, thinking what the hell she was doing staring at the mirror like a lovesick chump. She didn't have time for this shite. She pulled back the mane of hair into the same messy bun she had done initially and ignored all the chaotic thoughts running in her head like a movie on a ceaseless loop.

She wrapped Harry's oversized Golden colored Gryffindor scarf around her neck, the scarf that was so big that she had to loop it around a couple of times. It wasn't like Harry was going to need it today. After all, it would look really bizarre for him to fly around the quidditch pitch in a scarf.

Hermione had made peace with Harry over the half-blood fiasco after she had gone through the book line by line with myriads of dark arts detecting spells. And the tiny feeling of disappointment on finding none had been dusted, packed and shoved into some dark, murky and unexploited part of her brain. But she was Hermione and she wasn't anything if not stubborn so she had returned the book with only one condition. It was that Harry can make use of the help of the book only in Potions and in no circumstance he can use those little spells scribbled in the footnotes. Who knows what kind of spells they were, at least in Potions it would be in a controlled environment with a professor in attendance. Even if the professor did nothing other than stuffing himself with pumpkin candies and telling stories after stories about how some famous guy was his student once upon a time when Merlin wore pants or how he still had the insiders' information about the Bulgarian Quidditch team. She could care less about the Bulgarian team members.

Thinking about Bulgaria, she needed to post the letter to Victor, describing her summer. They had maintained their casual correspondence even after the disastrous yule ball. She had known that their relationship had no future not when her heart belonged with someone else.

It was one of those days when she wasn't the first person to wake up and mind you these kinds of days were really rare. Her dorm was already empty of her two loud roommates who by now had made their way to the great Hall for the pre-game excitement, rather than the breakfast.

Hermione lazily walked across the common room without the fear of some clueless first year bursting into a cloud of yellow canary feathers. The absence of the wonder Wesley twins had never felt so sweeter.

A yawning Ginny passed by her side rubbing her eyes so furiously that she nearly missed her curly haired best friend.

"Ginny, were you still sleeping? Don't you have to prep for the match? Harry was already out of his mind thinking about strategies and moves last night" Hermione asked worriedly.

Ginny scraped the sleep off from her eyes and smiled at the worried tone of her best friend. The day Hermione was not worried about something would be the day when his idiotic brother, Percy will do a tap dance to the tunes of _cauldron full of love._ And sadly that would be never, however, hilarious the picture it may be.

"Don't worry Hermione there's much time left for the match. And you know how much of a perfectionist Harry is, he didn't let us go until and unless it was soaked into our brain cells, during the last practice session. And don't tell me that, Harry didn't make you look up some weird obsolete moves from the ages of Merlin himself in the library from the last week or so," she asked with one of her eyebrows raised in a typical Ginny style.

On seeing her sheepish expression Ginny chuckled and answered herself, "God, Hermione you are just so hard for me to comprehend sometimes. Common let's go grab us some breakfast before Ron goes into his debut match frenzy and gobbles up all the cinnamon rolls," Ginny replied saucily.

Both the girls exited the common room in a burst of giggles.

Hermione entered the great Hall which was bustling with the excitement that always accompanied the quidditch matches and occupied the place in between her two boys. She never really got the allure of the game but to each his own. It was the Sunday when the whole Hogwarts was wired up for the first Quidditch match of the year. And if the match was in between the sworn enemies Gryffindors and Slytherins, then lord save them all, it was a bloody world war.

The whole student body was vibrating with pent-up energy even the teachers were on a high, laughing and enjoying themselves. Well, except Professor Snape and him smiling would have been a huge thing to wish for. He as always looked sourly upon everyone while throwing a sneer here and there. Looks like the post he had always aspired for, did nothing to uplift his mood. But she had to give it to Snape, for once she felt that her DADA classes were not a complete dud. He actually knew what he was teaching. Though at times he sounded as if he was talking about some imaginary lover instead of dark arts, those were Harry's exact words.

She gave Harry a beaming smile and wished him luck for his first match as the captain. As she turned to wish the same to Ron, it was nothing like she had anticipated.

Ron was looking like he was being chased by a herd of monster sized spiders. His face had gone awfully white, which made the millions of his freckles stand out against his skin. For a moment, Hermione was afraid that he had choked on something. Before she could whip out her wand to help him, Ginny smacked Ron on the head and said, "Oh, snap out of Ron. It's just a match. And if you faint now, I don't think Harry has the time or patience to find a new replacement. Hell, I don't think I have the time or patience to curb a distraught Harry running around like a headless chicken while looking for your spare. No offence, though, Harry. "

"None was taken, Ginny," Harry responded back with a smile.

Oh, this was the reason Ron was on the verge of spewing his stomach contents, and knowing Ron that would be a lot of it. Her heart went out to him. Ron had always been like that, a little insecure, a little unsure, the product of being compared to all siblings. But she loved him all the same.

"Ron, you are an amazing player. So stop worrying and go play your natural game," Hermione tried soothing the hysterical redhead.

Harry leaned into her side and whispered in her ear, "And Hermione, you do cast an amazing 'Confundus'. I mean to target a fast moving object is difficult enough, isn't it, Hermione?"

Hermione gave a really affronted look to Harry and whispered back, "I don't know what you are babbling about, Harry. I did no such thing because that would have been completely unethical and totally unfair."

And before both of them would realise what the hell they were talking, they burst into fits of laughter. She knew what Harry was talking about. Oh, she had confunded one of the competitors but Ron had done marvellously in the try-outs, so he was chosen, fair and square.

They both sobered when Ron started groaning and turning a peculiar shade of green and before anyone could do anything Ron grabbed Hermione's pumpkin juice goblet and retched into it.

"Arrgh… Ron! You moron," Ginny shrieked before getting up from her brother's side and joining Dean somewhere far, where she couldn't hear Ron upchucking his gut contents. With 'Ewwww' and screeches a bunch of girls and even some guys scattered away from Ron with sickened expressions.

Hermione made a disgusted face as she cleaned up the goblet with a simple _Sourgify_ though she did push the said goblet far from her and instead snagged Harry's.

"Merlin, now I feel a bit good. So what are you all waiting for, let's go and kick some ferret butt," Ron exclaimed?

Hermione smiled a bit and sprinkled a handful of raisins on her porridge as the talk around her morphed more and more into technicalities which were, to be frank passing all above her head, so she tuned it out effortlessly with years of practice.

An out of breath Katie slid in front of them and wheezed, "I think, Ron you will have to wait a bit for some of that ferret butt kicking."

As she was met with a confounded look she repeated herself as if she was talking to a bunch of toddlers, "Malfoy's not playing. Their reserve is playing for seeker position."

"Are you sure," Harry asked gravely.

"Quite. I just checked the noticeboard" Katie replied.

 _Well, this was certainly different. Malfoy never lets a chance to put them down,_ Hermione mused.

Like reflex half of the Gryffindor table turned, to look at the Slytherin table.

And as if he had no care in the world, Draco Malfoy sat with ease, twirling his fork in the air, in tempo with the movement of his fingers. He looked up at them and gave that slow, infuriating and galling smirk of his.

The last tangible thought in Hermione's mind as the Gryffindor Quidditch team broke into silent chaos was that _Draco Malfoy could do wandless magic._


End file.
